You Know Nothing
by Loser Got Lucky
Summary: Don't mess with the affairs of Mages. Especially if you have no idea what happens inside the Circle Tower. Amell/Alistair


**AN: Another Amell/Alistair oneshot! I'm not so sure on this one....let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: DragonAge and all it's characters are property of BioWare and EA. **

Solona had to applaud Arl Eamon's will ; he was up and about after a mere three hours. Andraste's Ashes had done better than any legend could have ever predicted, and now not a trace of illness was present in the Arl's face. He stood tall and firm before her and her band of friends, a fire crackling in the large fireplace behind him, casting his face in shadows. Two of his guards stood to the left, each holding one of the arms of Jowan, ex-mage of the Circle...and her friend.

His face was grey; a deathly pale that matched the emotionless faces of the walking dead that had been summoned by the Arl's son not a few days previously. Solona looked at him sadly as she bit her lip. He hadn't been fed properly. His tattered apprentice robes draped on his shoulders, the sleeves baggy when they had previously fit him snugly.

The Arl cleared his throat to get her attention, and she quickly snapped her eyes to him, standing straight as she tilted her head back.

"And what say you, Grey Warden? Do you have anything to add?"

Solona watched Arl Eamon, her eyes flicking between his face and the Blood Mage. Jowan. Her friend. As naive as it was to admit, she had thought that sending Jowan into the Fade to rescue Connor would cancel out all the wrong that he'd done, or at least grant him his freedom.

"Jowan risked his own life and entered the Fade to rescue Connor from the clutches of the demon," Solona said quietly, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked forward slightly on the balls of her feet (a habit that she'd subconsciously picked up from Alistair). "Surely this accounts for something, your Grace?"

"You make a fair point, Warden. Without him, my wife and son would not be here to help me decide his fate. And yet, I cannot ignore the fact that he tried to kill me." Solona lowered her gaze to the floor, her blond hair falling over her face. She'd never felt so helpless before; she was always so sure of herself, confident that her knowledge would guide her through any problem. But this was not a problem that she could work out; Her brain told her that Jowan should be executed for his crimes, but her heart screamed that this was _Jowan_, her friend and companion in the circle and, Blood Mage or not, she couldn't let him die. There was a slight rustle behind her, and a hand rested on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, and turned to see Alistair stood close behind her, smiling gently as he nodded slightly. She took a deep breath as she waited for Eamon to finish his judgement. To her surprise, he descended from his place by the fire and stood before the mage. He smiled gently at her, and Solona's breath caught in the back of her throat; it was like looking at Irving, the man who had always believed in her as a small child.

"What do you think I should do, Solona?" Eamon asked the young woman, smiling at her encouragingly. She didn't answer him for a few moments, now holding her staff between her hands, squeezing the wood with enough force to turn her knuckles white. Jowan stood silently, sagging forward in the two knight's grip. He had already resigned himself to his fate. To die or not to die…he'd tried his best to redeem himself to the Arl. Even if it wasn't enough, he'd saved Eamon and Isolde's son, and to him… that was just fine.

Solona tapped the end of her staff against the floor, nodding and drawing herself to her full height, her clear blue eyes searching out the muddy brown of Eamons. She was giving off the aura of power that she usually saved for fighting Darkspawn; electricity seemed to crackle in the air.

"I think that you should let Jowan free, your Grace," she said smoothly, tapping her staff against the floor again. "He has shown that he feels remorse for his actions, as well as saving both your wife and son from the grasp of demons. Surely he has earned the right to freedom?"

The Arl's face fell, and his brow darkened as he turned his back on the mage and stomped back over to Teagan, who had stood silent and brooding throughout the whole exchange. "I cannot do that. No matter what good Jowan has done, he is a Malificar and a possible danger to Ferelden. I therefore hand him over to the Mages, and they will decide his fate. Maker forgive and guide you, Jowan."

Jowan closed his eyes in defeat, his head lowered. Solona gasped before taking a step forward. She had never been one to show emotion; it was a distraction from things, and when one was performing a complicated spell, distraction was to be taken out of the equation, no questions asked. But it was as if whatever wall that held back her emotions had broken, and every single one was now being released, the most prominent one being anger. Her eyes flashed as she raised a lip into a snarl, the crackle of electricity that had been present before amplified to a level where the very air was static.

"You cannot do that! Sending him back to the tower is a fate worse than death!" she shouted at Eamon as she made to continue walking towards him.

"Solona!" Alistair gasped, grabbing her wrist to stop her. A flow of electricity snaked through his palm and up his arm, but still he held her back. If he released her… he could honestly say he didn't know what would happen. He'd never beheld her like this, and it was all too easy to see how dangerous a mage could be.

"Release me at once, Alistair!" she snapped at him over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the Arl. "Do you know what they will do to him should he be forced to return to the tower? They will perform the Right of Tranquillity upon him! They will take his emotion, power and memories!" she raged, fighting against Alistair's hold on her as he managed to snake an arm around her waist and pull her against his chest. He wrestled the staff from her hands and passed it wordlessly to Liliana. "Confound you, Alistair! I said release me!" Solona snarled, glaring over her shoulder at the templar, her eyes glowing slightly.

"What you gunna do about it then, Miss Mage?" Alistair challenged, panting slightly with a smirk on his face. Calling her bluff may not be wise with her in such a volatile mood…but Alistair was almost certain that she would not harm him. Growling, she swung her head round to continue her stream of abuse at Eamon, her long blond hair slapping against Alistair's face.

"You know nothing of how things work inside our Tower. To not assume that you can pass laws on us when you know not what fate you have bestowed on Jowan," she hissed at Eamon, her eyes filled with tears of frustration.

"Solona," a quiet voice said. Jowan was smiling weakly at her, his head raised. "I am not surprised. What I've done can't be forgiven, and I accept what fate will befall me. I have no-one to blame aside from myself, after all. My only regret is that I will forget Lily…my sweet Lily…" Jowan trailed off, sorrow thick in his voice. "Thanks….for everything, I mean it. And goodbye…my friend," he finished, allowing the two knights drag him down out of the main hall. Solona twisted in Alistair's grip, holding Jowan's gaze with her own until he was out of sight. She would not let herself have the easy way out; she would hold his gaze and receive all the guilt that she deserved. Even after Jowan was out of sight, she remained stiff in Alistair's arms, her eyes not seeing the people that surrounded them.

"I am sorry you feel that way, Warden," Eamon said, his voice slightly cold. "But I cannot justify the release of a Malificar. I hope that we will be able to set this matter behind us in time. I cannot do anything in the up-coming conflict without your assistance."

"I…understand," Solona said in a flat voice. "I apologise for my behaviour. Alistair, if you could release me, I wish to return to camp."

"O-of course," the templar stammered, letting go of the Mage so quickly she dropped a foot to the floor. Glaring at him, she brushed her robe down and pulled the blue stockings up before snatching her staff from Liliana and striding from the room. The bang of the front gates rebounded into the main hall, making Alistair tense his shoulders and groan. There would be one extra moody Mage in the camp tonight…fun.

Surprisingly, the Arl chuckled, shaking his head and turning to face the fire, his hands clasped behind his back.

"That's one fiery maiden you have on your hands there, Alistair," Eamon said, sounding amused. Alistair cleared his throat, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Well, I wouldn't call her _mine_, exactly…" he stammered, running his hand through his hair. "She's a Grey Warden, like me. It's natural we've got to stick together, there's nothing…romantic there at all, nope, not a thing-"

"My boy, you look too deeply into my words. I was merely commenting on the temper of the mage."

"Right…and I just set myself up to look stupid big time," Alistair muttered to himself. "Another brilliant move by yours truly…"

"Don't let it trouble you. We all do foolish things while infatuated. Anyway-" Eamon raised a hand to stop the spluttering, red-faced templar from answering, "-perhaps you and your companions could return tomorrow. I wish to rest now, and spend the evening with my family. We have a lot that needs to be discussed, Alistair, but it can wait."

"Yes, my lord. We will _all_ return tomorrow," Alistair promised, bowing slightly to the Arl before turning with Liliana and the Mabari hound to leave…and for Alistair to face the wrath of Solona.

.xXx.

A quick glance around the camp on their return told Alistair that Solona was not on her usual stump next to the main fire. Sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck, he pulled back a corner of her tent flap to see if she was inside, grumbling when he saw that she wasn't.

"You may want to try over there, Alistair," Liliana said, thumbing over her shoulder to Morrigan's secluded fire, where he could see the Witch of the Wilds sat crossed-legged with a pestle and mortar by the fire. His stomach knotted itself when he saw Solona sat near her, pulling leaves from a small branch and shredding them roughly before placing them in a pile beside Morrigan. Her long hair was tossed over her left shoulder, her eyes and hands focused on her task. Even in her anger, Alistair couldn't help but be moved by her beauty; her mysterious blue eyes, the way she cocked an eyebrow and poked her tongue out when she was thinking, the way she spoke and outsmarted him with ease.

Shaking his head and hoping the darkness would hide his blush, Alistair walked to Morrigan's fire, trying to portray a confidence he didn't feel. As he approached, he began to hear a tune on the air, and realised that she was humming. She was in no way a musical genius; her voice was too low to be considered good, but she could carry a tune well enough.

He must have alerted her to his presence because her head suddenly snapped up. She stared at him for a few moments, her face as blank as usual, her emotions expertly hidden, before she sighed and put the plant down. Morrigan looked at her, her head tilted the slightest fraction in question. She followed Solona's gaze into the darkness and saw the templar. She snorted before shaking her head and looking down at the mortar in her hands.

"It would seem I am to loose your company to our dense companion," she said smoothly, pounding the leaves to a thick paste.

"It would seem so," Solona replied, rising to her feet.

"T'is a shame; we were having such a… _pleasant_ time together. Still, you have things to discuss, I am sure. I shall leave you to your conversation."

"Thank you Morrigan," Solona said seriously, implying more to Alistair than the short conversation that had just transpired.

"T'is no trouble, Warden. Perhaps we could continue our talk at a later date?"

"I would like that," Solona said, smiling at the witch. She then turned and walked past Alistair in the direction of the main camp. Alistair stood dumbly. _She just blew me off completely. How in the Maker's name did that happen?_

"Well? Are you not coming?" Solona called at Alistair as she approached the fire, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Uh, yeah," Alistair muttered, jogging over to her. As desperate as he was to talk to her before, he was now terrified of being alone with her. For a few moments they stood in silence, Solona watching him as he slowly grew more and more uncomfortable. She stood with ease, a hip thrown out to the side, her arms crossed loosely and a single eyebrow raised in question.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened at the castle," Alistair blurted out, swinging his arms. Solona sighed, running a hand through her hair, organising the strands and two braids that hung on either side of her face.

"So speak," she said bluntly, her words cutting the man before her.

"…You're mad at me, aren't you?" he said quietly, sounding very small as he looked to the ground. Her face softened slightly as she took a step towards him.

"I have no reason to be resentful towards you, Alistair. You did nothing at the castle to invoke my fury, did you not?"

"B-but I held you back! I didn't attempt to reason with the Arl, I just stood there-"

"Which is fine," she interrupted, her lips quirking into the tiniest of smiles. "I would not want you trying to interfere with mage issues. It would have only angered me further. Though you holding me back, as you so put it, did indeed fuel my anger slightly, it is perhaps in hindsight a good thing that you did so. I may have attacked the Arl, and that would be the end of me, and all chances we have of stopping the Blight. I do not harbour any delusions of you being able to destroy this menace without my help, Alistair," she finished smugly, turning to face the fire. She brought a hand up to her mouth, biting her finger slightly. Alistair watched in silence, unable to think of any comeback to her speech. It was true; there was no way in Ferelden that he would be able to destroy the Blight without her. He would go stark raving mad if she left.

"I…it seems foolish to admit this," she said, her voice holding an element of self-loathing. "But I…thought that because Jowan saved the Arl's son, that he might be merciful and let Jowan on his way. How childish of me to hope for him to see the good that Jowan had done and weigh it against the bad and let him go…"

"Solona…" Alistair said softly, approaching the mage. He saw her watch him wearily out of the corner of her eye, but she did not back away from him as he approached. "He'll be alright in the Tower, right? The mage's will give him a slap on the wrist and lock him up, right? Why are you laughing?" he spluttered as the mage giggled into her palm, her face turned away from him.

"You truly know nothing how life is inside to the Tower, do you? They will not, as you put it, "slap him on the wrist." They will make him Tranquil. They will take the power that he was born with, severe it, and take away his emotion. All his memories, everything. He was in love once; now it will be nothing." Solona's voice wobbled towards the end of her sentence as she turned away from Alistair. He watched her with sad eyes. "He did not fear death; he feared becoming Tranquil. I have betrayed him."

Striding forward, Alistair looped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. She let out a small noise of surprise before struggling against his hold. Alistair refused to let go, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"You comforted me once when I needed it. Now it's my turn," he whispered, staring into the fire and feeling the tenseness of her shoulder beneath his jaw.

"I am in no need of comfort," she insisted, but Alistair cut her off.

"Liar." After a few minutes, she slowly relaxed in his grip, her shoulders falling and her breathing slowing. Her arms remained crossed above Alistair's, and the templar sighed against her back. "Now, you listen to me, miss smarty-pants. You didn't betray Jowan, okay? He knew that there was a chance that he would be put to death for what he'd done, and he was fine with it. At least he got to do some good beforehand, eh?"

"That does not make it any easier, Alistair. I allowed him to be caught instead of telling him to run. I will hold this guilt within me forever."

"Maker, don't be so morbid. There's enough of that already. Jowan was happy to go, wasn't he? I think he was tired of running."

"Perhaps you are right, for once," Solona said, sounding amused, leaning back against Alistair's chest. "It does not mean that I will forget this feeling in a matter of moments. You will have to give me time. Oh Maker, what a mess I have made. The Arl will never allow me to return to his court!" she moaned, hiding her face in her hands. Alistair laughed at her and hugged her close to his chest, earning another startled gasp from the mage.

"I dunno. If he could put up with my royal bastard behaviour when I was younger, I'm sure he'll be fine with you. That mans blessed with the patience of a saint, I'm sure."

"Hmm. We shall see," Solona muttered sceptically. She allowed the templar to hold her for a few moments more before clearing her throat and placing her hands on his to get him to release her. "I…think I shall go to bed. I need to begin preparing myself mentally for meeting Eamon tomorrow." Alistair nodded, smiling at her, and receiving an uncertain one in return. She headed over to her tent, looking over her shoulder at the templar. "I thank you, Alistair."

"The pleasure's all mine, my lady," he said respectfully, bowing to her with a grin. She shook her head before disappearing into the tent.

As soon as she was out of sight, he sighed before crouching down by the fire. Liliana approached and knelt beside him.

"Did that go well?" she asked, smirking at the man and earning one in return.

"I think so. There was no, 'hahaha, I'm an evil witch really, now you're a frog!'," Alistair said with a cackle, making signs with his hands before stretching with a grin at his Orlaisian friend, "was there?"

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**AN: Hmmm.....let me know what you think? **

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

You Know Nothing.


End file.
